


The Choice

by Capt_Birdie



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capt_Birdie/pseuds/Capt_Birdie
Summary: Meeting with Bo-Katan left a lasting impression on Din Djarin.
Relationships: Cara Dune & Greef Karga, Din Djarin/Cara Dune
Comments: 47
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 11b

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this before watching Chapter 12, and decided not to include its contents in this.
> 
> Any mistakes are my own.

„Hey, Mando!” greets Karga the approaching Mandalorian. The little creature tucked under his arm gurgles in recognition. Behind them, the Crest loses one its side plates when the desert wind rattles the craft a little.

“I needed to drop in, the Crest needs a proper repair that doesn’t include nets, and I have some business.” he says dryly dismay laced in his voice. He looks around the outside of the inn. When he can’t find what he’s looking for, he steps closer and asks lowering his voice. “Do you know if the Armorer is still around?”

“Yes, Cara says she is not planning to leave soon.” Din is taken aback at his answer. “She went out scouting a previously abandoned site. We’ve some concerning reports about it. She’ll be back by the evening.”

Din nods, exhaling out a breath he didn’t notice he held onto. “I don’t want to intrude her free time.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” Greef replies with a grin. “I’ve already arranged repairs for the ship; it looked worse for wear when we saw you approach.” He then steps closer to the Mandalorian to greet the kid. “Hey, little fella! Did you have fun on your adventures?” Greef asks, and the kid gurgles in delight. 

“Could you look after him for a little while? I’ve got … ” he trails off.

Karga looks over the Mandalorian. If it were a regular person, he’d say he’s fidgeting. “Yeah, sure. He’ll be safe.” Din hands over the child to Karga. “I’ve got to go.” he says sternly.

Before even Karga could acknowledge it, Din turns on heels and walks away. Karga shouts after him. “If you’re interested, there might be a job for you.” his answer is an acknowledging wave.

* * *

“Din, are you in?” Cara shouts into the main hold of the Crest, through the opened hatch. _He’d never leave it open._ She secures the child in her left arm, her right hand reaching for her gun just in case. She slowly approaches inside. The unmistakable smell of alcohol permeates through the hold. Cara furrows her brows, and the child shields his nose in disgust.

“I’m not in the mood, Cara.” he says.

The slurred speech surprises Cara, but what stops her in her tracks is his voice unaltered by the helmet. “Put on your helmet, then I’m coming in.” She can see his hunched form sitting on a crate at the table, thankfully his face is directed away from her. Out of respect, she lowers her gaze closer to the floor, just in case.

“It doesn’t matter, you can come in.” he says dismissingly. “Nothing matters, my whole life is a lie.” Din reaches for his glass drowning its contents, as he slams the glass on the table he knocks over a bottle sending it to the floor. The bottle shatters as it lands, scaring the kid in Cara’s arm.

Cara frowns at Din’s behaviour, and at the same time, she caresses the child’s ear as it’s huddling closer to her. “Cut the crap and put on that tin can before I slap some sense into you.” she warns. “And you’re scaring the kid.” she adds.

Din sighs. “Fine.” followed by another glass rolling on the floor as he kicks it while he reaches for the helmet. “It’s on.” he says, sounding behind his modulator.

“What happened Din?” Cara asks in concern. The number of bottles makes her worried about Din’s state.

“Nothing, just my whole life had been a lie.” He says, looking at her.

Cara sighs, his words not making any sense to her. But whatever he’d been through it must’ve been difficult, Din is not easy to rattle. She walks to Din’s bunk and puts the kid in the small hammock above Din’s bed who is curiously watching the exchange, then returns to Din and sits opposite of him.

“Wanna have a drink?” Din offers.

“Maybe next time, when you’re not in this sorry state.”

Din nods. He begins to play with the glass in front of him. “I’ve met Mandalorians from another clan.” he starts but stops waiting for Cara’s reaction. She observes him but makes no move. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m not even sure whether you’ll remember this come tomorrow. But I’ll listen if that’s what’s you need. I know what is like to get the rug pulled under off you.” she says encouragingly.

This time Din is grateful for his helmet. He’s already damning everything he’d ever known, but the patience of the woman in front of him crumbles and holds him up at the same time. “They are from Mandalore. And guess what, they have no qualms about removing their helmet in front of strangers.”

Cara is taken aback. Though she has to admit, Din and the Armorer are the only Mandalorians who she’d ever met. It’s possible that others are not as strict in their belief as those two. “Why?”

“It is their Way. I was told that the covert that raised me follows an ancient Way, but they are just a fringe group of Mandalorians.”

“And it turned your world upside down.” she summarizes.

“You can say that.” he admits. “And had I wanted to they’d welcomed me in their ranks, with or without my helmet.”

“Is it why you went to see the Armorer? To confront her?”

“To get some answers, yes.” Din nods. “She confirmed what they told me.” he stays silent for a minute mulling over his next words. “I never questioned the Way. I was proud to be a Mandalorian even if came with a high price.” he shakes his head. “It was my understanding that it made us stronger.” his tone waivers. “While I feel it more like a weakness now.”

Cara reaches for Din’s forearm to direct his gaze from his glass to her. “You’re not weak. Would it be nice to see the face underneath your helmet? Yes. Does it make you less of a man? No. You’re a good man Din Djarin with or without your helmet.” she says sternly.

“Cara…” Din covers Cara’s hand on his arm. “There haven’t been many times I wanted to show my face, but …”

A grin spreads over Cara’s face. “Okay buddy, I think I know where you’re going. And I’m not letting it. You need to sleep this off, then think everything through sober.” She stands, holding out an arm for Din to help him stand up.

Din instead leans on the table for support as he stands. “You might be right.” But his bravado diminishes as his legs almost give out and he reaches for Cara.

“I _am_ right.” She grunts while she steps under Din’s arm to hold him up. “And come morning we don’t even have to continue this conversation. It’s your choice.” she tells him before he starts bubbling up something he doesn’t want to.

The last thing Din remembers saying before seeping into unconsciousness is Cara’s calming voice.

* * *

Din wakes up with a throbbing headache. He bites back a moan, then his gaze is quickly turned to the hamper above, as per his usual morning routine, but the kid is nowhere in sight. He panics, but then he remembers Cara. The kid must be with her. Her presence last night meant the world to him. He knows he was spiralling out of control, but she quickly put him back on his path. He removes his helmet to brush off his face. He studies the helmet in his hands, contemplating leaving it behind. But he puts it back on, makes a quick use of the washer and heads up to the cockpit where he suspects them to be.

Yesterday’s bottles are nowhere to be found in the hold, another action to be grateful for Cara. Cara is bundled up in a blanket in the pilot seat, using another chair for her legs to be propped up. The kid is snuggled in her lap under the blanket. At Din’s steps, the kid wakes chirping, which rouses his comfortable mattress. When Cara opens her eyes, she can see Din standing in the doorway leaning against the wall. “Good morning, buddy. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll survive. Thank you, Cara. For everything.” He watches dimples form on her cheeks.

“You can thank me by making some breakfast. I’m sure the kid would also appreciate it.” she says drowsily. She remains silent after that, leaving it to Din to continue however he’d like. Din appreciates that she’s so much like him. Neither of them is good at verbal communication, but their actions speak volumes. He watches as she pulls out the child under the blanket, strong hands gently smoothing over the tousled hair of the kid. Living under Nevarro’s sun painted a light bronze colouring over her face, he’d even chance it and say she is looking radiant. She is relaxed under his stare, a trust she rarely shares.

“I can do that.” he smiles under his helmet.

After finishing breakfast, they both observe the kid playing with a small trinket he found somewhere. Cara breaks the comfortable silence. “I don’t know what you remember, but I meant what I said.”

Din nods. “I remember it clearly.”

Cara hums. “You believe in what you want to. You keep yourself to whatever peaceful customs you want to, to centre yourself. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. I keep braiding my hair because that’s the only thing I have left from my culture, that I can still practice.”

Din turns to her. He mentally slaps himself. With her confidence, it is easy to forget what she’d gone through. He silently wills her to continue.

“If you want to remove your helmet nobody would stop you. Well, if you’re not ugly as a bantha that is.” she tries to alleviate the mood. “But there is no one forcing you to remove it either. If you still want to continue with the customs you’ve grown into, then do it. I can keep my mouth shut about it; no one else needs to know what you’ve told me.”

Din sighs. “I appreciate it.” He wrings his hands together, weighing his options. “I think I would like to keep this between us.”

“Good. Now, when you’re up for it, Greef has a job for you.” she punches his thigh in her reach. “It’s actually for both of us. We’d make short work of it, but we have some planning to do.” She stands, opens the side door, and leaves Din to his thoughts.

* * *

Cara was right, again. The job only took them a few minutes to complete once they arrived at the scene. The abandoned site turned out to be a forefront for imperial soldiers to dig themselves a foothold. As usual, they worked efficiently each the extension of the other, always moving in sync even when they couldn’t see the other. Din thinks back to their exchanges during their travel. She’d never mentioned any of his revelations. Cara was acting just like her regular self, sharing tales about her time on Nevarro. After they’d finished with the last soldier, she flashed him an infectious grin that evoked small flutters in his stomach. On their way back as they cruised on the speeder bikes, he couldn’t help but think about what he nearly did last night.

“How long will you stay?” Cara asks as Din gathers the child into his arm from Greef.

“Not long, we’ll leave around sunset. I still have some supplies to buy before we can head out.” Din replies while making his way out of Karga’s office.

“All right, I’ll see you then.” she waves them off casually smiling at their retreating form.

Din turns back to her in his surprise. He takes in her sight. _Could I have the strength to show my face to her?_ The answer comes to him faster than expected. He nods - to them and himself - and leaves the two behind.

Karga watches their interaction with amusement. “Is there something I should know about?”

“What do you mean old man?” Cara snaps back jokingly.

“If you want to, you can go with them. I’d already considered your debt paid back. You helped tremendously.”

Cara frowns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” and she is heading out for a walk to clear her mind.

Greef sighs. “Yes, you do.” he whispers to himself.

* * *

Greef and Cara are both at the Crest seeing Din off. Cara affectionately plays with the kid, while Karga watches as Din fills the cargo hold.

When the last crate is loaded, Din walks over to them. “Thank you, Greef. For the repair and the job, and everything in between.”

“No problem, son. You’re still the best bounty hunter I have.”

“Hey!” Cara exclaims.

“But only because I like to have this one” pointing to Cara “beside me as a deterrent.” he says laughingly. “Jokes aside if you need work, you can always come back.”

“I appreciate it.” Din says. Working up his courage, he turns to Cara. “Could you come up for a few minutes? I’d like your opinion on something.”

Cara furrows her brows. “Sure.” she replies, handing over the kid to Din, stepping up beside him.

“I’ll just wait here doing nothing.” Karga says, leaning against the speeder, wondering if he’ll have to look for another hired muscle.

Din puts the kid on the table, leaving the hatch open, his back is turned to Cara. “The Armorer said something about choosing the Way, and it made me realize something.” he begins to explain himself. He removes his helmet.

“Din!” Cara warns him while turning around to give him a way out. “I’ve told you that you don’t have to do this. I refuse to break the oath you hold dear because your beliefs got rattled.”

Din walks to Cara, boldly resting his hand on her shoulder. “I’ve decided that I won’t reveal my face to others. Just to you.”

“Din?” Cara gasps at the last words but holds her place. The implication of the gesture sinks Cara’s heart. To have this man handing over his complete trust in her hands is almost too much.

“And I’ve thought about what you said too. According to our rules, we can only show our face to our immediate family bound by blood.“ he stops, then smiles at their history. “We’re bonded by blood, but not in the traditional sense. I choose to interpret the rule as it suits me. So, I’d be honoured if I could show my face to you.”

Cara turns around, but her gaze is still fixated on Din’s chest. Despite Din’s sincere tone and her heavy heart, her wicked side jumps at the opportunity to lighten the mood. She bites back a smirk, trying to avoid being caught. “I have to say that this is definitely the most honest proposal I’ve ever received.”

Din steps back and splutters. “What? No! No. I didn’t mean to ask for your hand in marriage.” he paces back to the table then back to Cara.

“Is it because I’m not pretty?” Cara inquires with a sorrowful face, clenching her hand not to break out laughing.

Din still can’t believe that he managed to drop himself into this big pile of bantha shit. “No! Of course not! Have you looked into a mirror recently?” 

“Then, because I’m not wearing nice dresses and fawn over a hero wearing a shining armour?”

Panic builds up in Din. “Cara, stop! I assure you if anybody saw you during a fight from my clan, you would have a lot of marriage proposals to deal with.”

“Then, why not?” Cara asks in the most innocent voice she can muster up, biting the inside of her mouth.

The Mandalorian lets out a sigh and shuts his eyes. “Because you deserve better.” he whispers.

His serious answer hits Cara unexpectedly cooling off her mirth. She steps closer and looks up at his face. “Sorry. I was just pulling your leg.” She trails her gaze on Din’s face, observing as his muscles relax at her admission. She’d never tried to imagine what lies underneath the helmet, so she savours the opportunity to study him a bit.

Din shakes his head in disbelief. He should have known better; it is Cara after all. “Just out of curiosity, how many proposals had you endured before?” He then takes in her visage in front of him. Without his visor, at this distance, he can see every small freckle adorning her cheeks, the intricate pattern of her braid and the warmth radiating through her eyes.

Cara shakes her head and looks away. “More than I care to count.”

“And none of them was enticing enough to accept?” he counters getting bold with each second, he spends this close to Cara. His hands twitch by his side, wanting nothing more than to hold onto Cara.

She turns back to him. “Most of them wanted me as their trophy wife.” Cara’s tone is sombre. “I never wanted that.” She makes a half-smile – _though the last proposal is definitely something I’d consider_. She straightens herself, takes a half step back and offers a gentle smile, searching Din’s eyes. “I have to go back to Greef before he decides to leave me behind.” she concludes, silently asking Din not to delve further into the topic. 

Cara saunters toward the hatch and looks back at Din, but he halts her. ”I still haven’t asked your opinion.”

“About?” she tilts her head in confusion and raises an eyebrow.

“Am I as ugly as a bantha?” Din asks jokingly.

Cara bites her lower lip. “No.” she replies but offers no further remarks.

“But you wouldn’t marry me because of my good looks either, wouldn’t you?”

“No.” she shares her signature smirk. “I wouldn’t marry you _just_ for your looks.” Cara watches as Din’s eyes light up, but before he’d put his foot in his mouth, she interrupts him. “Besides, I think one life-altering change is enough for one day. For both of us.” She then waves at the kid and Din and walks off the ship.

Din couldn’t help himself to wave back just in case she turns back wearing a stupid grin.

* * *

Greef claps his hands on his thighs when he sees Cara finally leaving the Crest. “So, are we heading back to town to grab your things and I’ll cruise you back here?”

“No.” Cara answers, jumping in the speeder.

“Why not?”

_Maybe next time._


	2. Chapter 13b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din makes a detour on their way to Tython.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the deal. I planned this story initially as a stand-alone, because there were serious plot holes in my head to fill out for a series. But 4 episodes, two deadlines and a holiday later, everything got clear, hence the addition of chapters. I'm not promising too frequent updates, but I promise to finish it. The story will be connected to the second season and will end about 3-4 weeks after the credit roll. 
> 
> Happy new year everybody!

A gentle, beeping sound wakes Cara instead of her usual alarm. Usually, her messages wait for her to start her morning, but some senders have priority. She begrudgingly walks over to her holocomm to see who is on fire.

“Hey,” Din’s helmeted face greets her. “We have to fly a path close to Nevarro, so I thought to pick up some supplies en-route to our new destination. We’ve met a Jedi, she …” He turns away and looks at something behind his back, so rest of the sentence is just garbling. “And I’ve to introduce you to someone. We’ll drop by around sunset. Hope you’re not off-site.” Cara can hear the excitement in his voice, but that’s the end of the transmission.

Cara frowns. “Introduce me to someone?” she asks aloud. She is surprised that a twinge of jealousy creeps up in the back of her head. _There is no reason. We’re friends. And if he’s happy, then I can only be happy for him._ She reasons with herself.

She opens the channel to answer him. “Hey. Just send me a list, and I’ll get it. By the time you arrive, every store will be closed.”

* * *

Din has heard the phrase “it takes a village to raise a child” before. He’d experienced it as a child. Being in the covert, the children played and learned together during the day while various adults supervised them. Every adult taught them something different. Now, as he tries to keep up with Grogu, especially on those days when the kid feels particularly mischievous, he feels the other side of that phrase. It is challenging to deal with a child alone, and in a village, you can always ask for help. And where there is joy, sharing that emotion with someone has its own merits too.

When he plots the course to Tython, the path leads them onto familiar territory. Ever since his covert settled on Nevarro he was washed over with serenity when arriving back on the planet, feeling home. Before every outing, he recounted everyone’s features to remind him what he is working for and rejoiced when he arrived and reunited with his creed. Now that the covert is gone - and by Greef accounts the Armorer left shortly after his last departure – he felt that he lost the place where he could find refuge and share his experiences.

Days after Greef’s short message on his way to Corvus, he got another one from a certain rebel shock trooper, telling him that they got rid of all the imperial remnants in Nevarro’s solar system, beaming with joy at the accomplishment. And that ignited a spark in him, that maybe his safe harbour just relocated from the sewers to the topside. Without overthinking he changes the course to land on Nevarro. Even if for a short time, it would feel nice to see familiar faces.

He sets up the holocomm to message Cara after he put the kid to sleep. Or at least he hopes Grogu is sleeping and not feigning it as he did the last two nights. Din is about to explain briefly what Ashoka told him when he hears a crash from the hold. He looks back while still talking to the comm device while trying to decipher the source of the noise. After the message is sent, he finds Grogu grinning at him, small hands holding onto a bantha jerky and various boxes scattered across the floor. Din sighs – _it’s going to be a long night_ – and cleans up the mess. He ventures up to the cockpit to start the nightcycle, where a message already awaits him. 

* * *

The Crest descends on time, and Cara is already waiting for them with a small cart and fuel rig. The maintenance crew attaches the fuel pump when the engines are shut down, and Cara waves them away – they can detach it without help.

Din opens the side door greeting Cara. His steps are heavy, but his shoulders slack and there is some levity in his manners, despite the sign of weariness. Cara swears that he is smiling under his helmet. 

“Thank you for procuring the food. We’re low on it. I swear the kid has a black hole in his stomach.” he says, leaning down to grab the crate from the cart. “Is Greef coming?” he asks, walking back to the ship and nodding to Cara to follow him.

“In a few minutes.” Cara replies as she steps on board. Her eyes quickly scan the inside of the ship for any newcomers or any clues. But she only spots a spear that is new to her.

“So …” Din starts.

“Oh, and don’t forget this. The best stuff you can get here.” she shoves a bag into him, the force presses the air out of it, filling the air with a delicious aroma. She wonders if Din could smell any of it through the filters of his helmet. The kid behind him on the table is visibly interested in it.

“What’s this?”

“Real food. Not the kind you bring yourself with. I thought … ”

“Great. Thank you, it definitely will be nice to eat something fresh. So …”

Cara interrupts him again. “What did the Jedi say?” she asks nervously. “The kid is obviously still with you.”

Din sighs and puts the food on another table, out of the reach of the kid. ”That is really why I wanted to come here.” he starts. This time when Cara opens her mouth, he notices her intention and stops her. “Cara! Please, let me speak.” he pleads. Cara bites the inside of her mouth and nods silently linking her arms together.

The kid is waiting patiently for Din to pick him up. “Cara, this is Grogu.” he presents Cara the kid.

Cara falters. Then shame flushes her. _Stupid!_ She flashes a smile to the kid who is reaching towards her. “Okay, I get it little one.” she says and gently tucks him in her arms. The kid whines a little. “Sorry. Grogu.” The way she says the kid’s name warms Din’s heart, and Grogu’s alike. Grogu squeals in delight. “I’m still going to call you little one from time to time, don’t be surprised. All right, Grogu?” The kid pats her cheek gurgling unintelligibly, but the intent is understood. 

“Where is my favourite kid?” Greef steps into the hold boisterously, making Din and Cara jump back a little from each other. Greef furrows his brows – _might be a good idea knocking first the next time_ – and scans the picture that greets him. Din and Cara stand closer than usual, Cara holding the kid, looking at him slightly surprised. “Did something happen? Is he sick?” he asks worriedly.

Din looks back at Cara, nudges her arm and she flashes a toothy smile in response. “No, he’s not sick. Greef, let me introduce you to Grogu.” she says proudly presenting the kid to the Magistrate.

“Grogu?!” Greef exclaims, and the kid makes a happy noise again, clearly enjoying the attention. “So, now you have a name. Well then, thank you Grogu, for saving me.”

“And thank you for the supplies.”

“Bah, ” Greef waves. “it’s nothing.” he is about to babble to Grogu when his communicator beeps. “Dank farrik. I have to get back. Guild business.” he hands Grogu back to Cara. “Next time stay a bit longer, will you?” he says and waves them goodbye.

Uncomfortable silence fills the cargo hold, with the occasional cooing of Grogu. The child looks back and forth between Din and Cara expecting one of them to break the suspense. Din decides to take the initiative. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” Cara raises an eyebrow to question his motives, which makes Din stammer. “You, ah, brought enough food, we could, you know. Eat it. The three of us.”

Cara contemplates a little, chewing her mouth. “All right.” she nods. “And you can explain how exactly a Jedi talked to the little guy.”

Din quickly walks to the door to close it from the inside. His initial thought was that he could remove his helmet in front of Cara, and they could share a nice meal and just talk. It would be relaxing even if for an hour. But as he walks back to the table to set up the dinner, he is conflicted. Or maybe scared. Or both. Despite showing his face to Cara - though admittedly for a short time, and from time to time to the kid - it still feels foreign to him to willingly pull it off his head while others are around him. Sure, the kid has seen him, but he is part of his clan. And Grogu might understand him in a way, but he is still a child, not well versed in reading people’s faces, and he is only without his helmet in front of him for a short time. But Cara is entirely different. She is exceptionally skilled in reading him. In fact, she doesn’t even need to see his face to guess what is going around his head most of the time. And to have that ability around him, when he cannot master his expressions is frightening. He’d never needed that skill, and now he is at a loss without it, even knowing that Cara would rather lay down her life, than to hurt him. And that got him stuck standing around like an idiot, putting up a show about looking for utensils with his back to her.

His stalling doesn’t go unnoticed. “For kriff’s sake, Din. If you don’t open your mouth, I don’t know what you want. I’m not a mind reader.” Cara grumbles, and while seated, she turns around half way. Her back is to him in her position, but she would be able to place her plate on the table and help the kid eating if he needs it.

Her action makes Din question Cara’s inability to read minds. And though her tone indicates that she is angry, Din knows or at least hopes it is not because he doesn’t want her to see him, but because he is an idiot. He should’ve just said so, and Cara would have been fine with it respecting his wish. Therefore, the next step is to try to act like an adult and have dinner.

The food turns out to be a tasty stew and fresh bread, what he wolfs down as he hadn’t eaten in days. The advantage is that he can put back his helmet, and can narrate the story of how they met a Jedi.

The dinner turns into lively storytelling, as he is trying to explain Cara how Grogu managed to eat the spawn of a giant monster on an ice planet that got the ship in a sorry state. The story and Cara’s giggles entertain Grogu for a while, but then his mind switches to something more important. The handle. What is most likely to be in the cockpit. He makes a whining noise and both adults turn their head amidst a laugh. Then he gestures toward the cockpit, and Din understands his intentions. “Oh, I almost forgot!” he runs up, leaving a baffled Cara behind. She leans toward the kid, “What got into him?”

Din arrives with a metal ball holding it out to Grogu, and the kid nods. “Cara, here hold onto it.” he places the handle in her hand. He then proceeds to position Cara’s arm to stretch it out a bit, so the ball would be farther away from Grogu. Cara cannot decipher his action and looks up at Din questioningly. “You’ll see.” Din cannot keep the excitement in his voice. “Tell him to get the ball.”

Cara blinks but relents. “Fine. Grogu, ” and the kid’s ears perk up, squealing at her use of his name, “come, get the ball.” She watches as the kid concentrates staying in her lap, and reaches out to the ball, and in a blink of an eye, the ball lands in his little hand. “Spirits!” she exclaims.

“Yeah, I know. Amazing, isn’t it?”

She turns to Grogu seated in her arms. “Well, buddy, congrats. You did nice.” and she tickles his ear. Grogu giggles and hands over the ball to Cara. “Again?” Cara asks, and the kid just waves at her enthusiastically. “Sure, why not?” and she stretches her arm out with the handle in it. Grogu, gets it again without a mistake, and both of them are gleeful about it. 

Din chooses this moment to clean up the dinner dishes, wearing a smile, that the others cannot see. He listens to Cara’s and Grogu’s interaction, and his heart swells a little.

“Okay, I can see you’re good at catching, but can you give it to me the same way?” Cara asks and gives Grogu the ball. She holds out her arm and shows him her palm. “Grogu, hand me the ball.” The kid concentrates, but the ball merely leaves his hand and falls into Cara’s lap. His ears wane down, and he coos in sadness. Cara grabs the ball and hands it back to him. “Hey, ” she bumps his nose gently “it’s fine. How about we try at a shorter distance?”

Their conversation picks up Din’s interest, and he turns back to see the spectacle. Grogu manages to levitate the ball to Cara at third arm’s length. _Would she stay if I was to ask? The kid could benefit from it. And who knows how long will it take for someone to come for the kid if anyone even notices his signal._ “You’re really good with him. I never thought to try it the other way around.” he notes.

“It’s just basic training. If you can do something one way, try it the other. And if you can’t do it, try it in small steps.” she explains.

Din lifts his helmet just enough to drink a sip from his wine that Cara brought with the dinner, but for some reason, he asks a question he’ll regret a few seconds later. “Have you ever thought of having a child of your own?” It seemed like a good idea at the time to drink and quickly lower his helmet to hide behind it. Still, he knows he fucked up the fraction of a second she looks up at him, her eyes glinting in the low light in the hold, and he notices her half-smirk.

“Why, do you want another one?” she retorts.

His response is immediate. He’d never exhaled wine through his nose before, and Din is confident that it’s an experience he wouldn’t like to repeat. Especially when said wine splatters on the inside of his helmet, coating his chin on its way down, dripping to the floor. Cara’s laugh reverberates in the hold, and her mirth is shared with the kid as well. She can barely catch her breath as Din tries to wipe down the slobbery wine with his back turned to them, helmet in his hand.

Grogu scrambles over Din’s side near the sink and claps happily. He then turns to Cara, waves his hand at her, then at Din, eagerly wishing for an encore of the event.

“Sorry kid, ” Cara tries still gasping for air “that was a one-off kind of magic. An opportunity that you have to be patient to wait for,” she rises from her seat “like when you’re hunting for a frog,”. Cara slightly crouches down, then on light feet, she approaches Din from behind “then jump when you have the chance.” and pounces on Din, patting his back, jostling him, but she never looks at his face, just enjoys the giggle erupting from the kid reacting to her antics. 

After pleased with the cleanliness of his helmet, he puts it back on and turns to Cara. “Guess I walked into that one.”

“Just keeping on your toes, buddy.” she says, patting his arm and sharing her earnest, infectious smile that he rarely sees. There are many smiles of Cara Dune ranging from menacing to insincere, through polite and happy. The latter one that lights up her whole face is the one he cherishes the most, especially since it’s the one she wears the least. They’ve been through difficult times during their lifetime. Happiness is not a frequent visitor in their lives, so if his action made her happy for a fraction of a time, he was also happy, even if the joke was at his expense.

Cara glances over to Grogu, who, despite the recent activity, is slowly drooping. “On that note, I guess I better get going, and you should be on your way.” she says trying to keep her mood elevated for their sake, but sadness laces through her voice dropping it a few notes lower. Walking over to the side hatch and opening it, she waits for Din to reach her. She is standing there, eyes questioning whether either of them wants to say something. In these moments, she wishes she had another life before and had not lost everyone, that the prospect of losing another had not built a wall around her heart. But the memory of Alderaan’s demise hit her, reinforcing her defence systems and she chooses to stay silent.

Din forms several sentences in his mind, trying them out, but cannot make an argument that would sound logical to his ears and not sound desperate to Cara. He could argue that the both of them could be more efficient, but he doesn’t want to pluck Cara out of her place. She’d made herself a home here, and he understands the need to settle. So, he resorts to the old way of his days and decides that maybe staying mute is for the better.

The way his shoulder sag heavily with a sigh concluding his line of thought, tells Cara the inner war Din wages with himself. She nods understandingly and makes a half-smile – the sad kind – and heads for the town. Din etches his last moment with Cara into his memory to hold onto it until the next time he visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for all, who read it, and for those whose encouragement spurred my muse to expand the story.


	3. Chapter 15b / Chapter 16b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shadows of Morak haunt Din.

Cara makes the last check on her newly cleaned sidearm then holsters it with a satisfied grin on her face. She is about to inspect her heavy blaster when Shand glides down the ladder from the cockpit.

“We’ll arrive at the next destination in three hours. You might want to take a rest.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Cara murmurs picking apart the main section of her rifle.

Fennec shrugs dismissively “As you wish.” she directs her gaze to Din, who is looking away from both of the women, staring out to the flashes of hyperspace. “But you should heed the advice, Mando.”

“I’m fine.” Din says, his voice low. 

Cara turns to Din, then at Fennec, raising an eyebrow. Fennec smirks in response and slightly shakes her head. She proceeds to the back of the room to a ladder leading below. “I’ll be laying down.” she announces halfway, before closing the hatch. Her reaction and subsequent silent answer made Cara curious and concerned. She noticed that Din put up a façade, controlling his body language. But after they left Morak and sat on the seat he is still occupying, something was amiss. Even though they were alone, he never a said word to her. Not that they are a chatty bunch, but she expected some recount of what happened.

“Din?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About what happened on Morak?”

Din sighs. He leans forward, arms resting on his thighs. “Not sure.”

“Hmm.” Cara hums in response. At least she has confirmation that something bothers him. “When was the last time you slept?” she asks.

Din turns to her. “What did Shand say to you?”

“Nothing.” She bites the inside of her mouth to weigh her next line. “You sound tired.”

“I can’t sleep.” Din admits.

“When?” Cara asks more forcefully and to prove her point, she stands up from her seat, laying the heavy blaster across it.

“Before they took Grogu.” comes the defeated answer.

Cara takes a step closer, then turns around. She paces around the room for a bit, then she returns to her position close to Din. She begins to seize him up, then makes a few steps toward the back of the cabin.

“What are you doing?” Din asks, curious about Cara’s behaviour.

“Wondering where to stow your body after I knocked you out.”

Din takes a deep breath. “Cara …” but he is interrupted by his companion. “No. You need to sleep. The kid needs you to be at your best. You can’t help him if you can barely function.” she tries to reason with him.

He rises from his seat, but he miscalculated his depleting energy level. His legs feel heavier than he anticipated and moves like an elder. “Need more evidence?” Cara asks. Din shakes his head. He looks around and nods to one of the corners. “That one looks comfy.”

Nothing in the area is comfy. There are non-reclining seats and some floor space. Both of them had worse places to sleep, though. “Fennec said there might be some blankets here.” Cara notes, leaning down to one of the storage compartments, and gleefully holds up two. Din had already made his way to the corner, removed his cape, folded it into a small pillow and laid down. Cara shrugs, she puts down one folded blanked beside Din, sits on it and then puts the other behind her back to cushion herself with it as she sits.

When Din turns his head to her, she explains. “Want to make sure, you’re sleeping.”

Din huffs. Try as he might, his experience on Morak is something he cannot shake, and the cacophony of thoughts keeps him awake. After a few minutes of trying to will himself to sleep, he sits up, pulling up his legs, resting his arms on his knees. “I removed my helmet and exposed my face to a full room of troopers.” He starts hoping that maybe if he tells part of the story Cara will take pity on him and either let him wallow in his misery or actually knock him out. But the world suddenly becomes fuzzy, his head begins to spin and the overwhelming need to escape speeds up his heart rate. He suddenly grabs his helmet, pulls it off his head and takes in a deep breath. Din catches as Cara turned her worried gaze from him as soon as his hand touched his helmet, and now, she just looks in front of her, not wanting to breach his trust. It never ceases to amaze him how this woman can respect his need to stay hidden despite that he’d already shown her his face. He also hates this respect, maybe if she would have been less the person she is, she could’ve forced him to have that dinner with them face to face. Then perhaps he wouldn’t have been shocked and wouldn’t be rattled.

“I was terrified of what they would see of me. I couldn’t speak. I just stood there.” he continues but waits if Cara has something to say, but she just sits beside him quietly. He turns his helmet in his hand, looking into the visor, trying to make sense of the world through another set of eyes. “White noise filled my ears, and for a second, my chest felt hollow.” He pauses again. “The strangest thing is that I hadn’t even thought about that I chose to break my creed. All I could think of that I have no control of my face.” Sharing his inner struggle lightens the weight on his chest and Din lies back, closing his eyes, helmet laying on his chest for quick access. “When we came back, I haven’t thought twice about putting the armour back on.” A strained laugh escapes him. “A year ago, I would have been crushed. I would’ve brought my armour back to the Armorer and left the covert and the creed for good in shame. And I don’t know why I feel this way.”

Cara listens to his rant patiently, keeping her gaze on her rifle a few feet away from them. _There will be time to clean it, this is more important._ She needs a few minutes to run everything through her head to analyse the situation. “What would’ve happened if you hadn’t removed your helmet?” Her question surprises Din. “The console would’ve shut down raising an alarm.” he replies. Cara hums, “So, it was either that or the kid. In my book, that’s not a choice.”

Din shifts opening his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of Cara’s face. The backlight of the hyperspace only allows him a sharp silhouette from his vantage point. Her assessment brings back Mayfeld’s words to him, and his previous action regarding Cara to bend the rules. Maybe he is not feeling out of place because defending the foundlings always takes priority according to the Way. The solution quiets the storm in his head but another matter begins to gnaw at the back of his mind. One that gave him comfort in the past year, _her_ presence.

To stay afloat and alive, he quickly categorised everyone he knew and filed them under different labels. He had temporary allies and business partners, but outside the covert everyone had their own agenda. Some would even turn against him if they were given a better reward. Inside the covert, he’d mentors, rivals but no one in particular with whom he could associate himself with. The mere sense of belonging to somewhere provided the connection with the others. There were none like Cara. When he arrived on Nevarro with Fett, he only hoped that she’d come with them. Now that her connection to the New Republic cannot be exploited further, she is still supporting him in more ways than one. She is not here because of creed, she is here on her own volition to get the kid back, and in some part to kick some imperial ass, but the latter is just a bonus to her. Even now, the way Cara seated herself beside him is for his defence, a silent expression that she has his back. With his helmet off, if Shand is faster than both of them, he is obscured by her body. And if either Shand or Fett turns up without him waking, he is most likely to get a smack in his chest or a kick in his leg to rouse him.

Of all the categories he can think of she fits two, but neither has been used before by him, and Din is unsure given his limited experience that his assessment is correct. One of them sounds enticing, something he only ever dared in his dreams, the other seems more plausible. “Cara?” he calls for her attention. “You have to keep quiet to sleep.” she growls at Din but makes no move. “Are you my friend?” he asks, unsure. Cara groans and looks up to the ceiling. “What kind of a stupid question is that? Sleep deprivation got your mind, Din. Of course, I am. Now, if I don’t hear your snore in 5 minutes, I _will_ knock you out.” she warns, but her words lack the bite she reserves for real threats.

Din smiles at her confirmation. She is looking out for him, body, and soul, and he aspires to return the favour when needed as a friend should. He closes his eyes and lets today’s revelations lull him to sleep. 

* * *

After they capture Dr Pershing, they pull the two imperial bodies into the boarding hatch. The doctor is seated on the centre of the cabin floor, shackled, away from any controls he could tamper with. Din can see the simmering anger in Cara’s clenched jaws. He stops her with a hand on her arm. He addresses her keeping his voice low enough for Pershing not to hear. Cara stiffens, back ramrod, fists ready for a fight. Din releases her arm, almost asks if she’s feeling well, but she is clearly perturbed by the pilot’s remarks. “Is there anything I can do?” he asks, standing by her side. 

Cara is taken aback by the question, she expected something different. It’s been a while since anybody asked her that question. The sheer hatred she feels for the scumbag pilot, the reminder of her loss and Din’s care superimposed on each other creates a wave of emotions threatening to erupt she can barely stomp down. Her eyes mist over, and she is glad that Din is not facing her completely. “I could use a punching bag right now.” she answers and wipes a tear from her eye in frustration.

“I can offer my services.” Din tries to encourage her. Thankfully Cara lets up a light laugh. “I don’t want to break my hand on your armour. But thanks.” She stops Din mid-sentence when he says he could remove it. “Just … ” she stops to keep her emotions in check. “Take back Pershing, I can pilot this. It will give me time to bottle up my anger to be unleashed on the imps, we’ll face soon. And make sure to keep the doctor out of my reach.” 

Din nods and hauls Pershing to Fett’s ship. Before he closes the hatch, he catches Cara’s grateful gaze on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for the feedbacks :)
> 
> I'm sure it is obvious but the next chapter will cover the immediate aftermath of the series finale.


	4. Chapter 16c

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a bit dark. Mind the new tags. Rating bumped up for words and darker themes just in case.

The door closes behind the Jedi and Grogu, and an uneasy quietness fills the bridge. Din sighs, leans down for his helmet and repositions it on his head. He saunters back to Cara with a heavy heart who still has a firm grip on her heavy blaster, but she watches him getting closer encouragingly. She also glimpses over to Bo-Katan every third step he is making, expecting the Mandalorian to strike Din. He stops in front of Cara just two steps from her. He assesses everyone around him. Fennec nods to him, Koska waits for Bo-Katan’s reaction, and the Heiress simply glares at him but makes no move against him.

“Fennec?” he asks. “Fett arrives in a few minutes.” she punches in a few buttons and turns to Cara. “There is a carbonizer one level down, that would make it easier to deal with him.” and she points her gun to Gideon. Cara nods, but not changes her position standing between Din and Bo-Katan. “I’ll help you.” Din offers and reaches under Gideon’s right arm, and he motions for Cara to mimic him. Cara grits her teeth and looks back at Bo-Katan. “There is no glory in defeating a broken, unsuspecting adversary.” Bo-Katan notes and turns around to the controls of the ship. Cara relaxes her stance, slings her rifle on her back and grabs under Gideon’s other arm.

Cara is silently boiling under a carefully straightened face, not voicing her concerns about the other Mandalorians, about Fett, and most of all Din’s state of mind, as they freeze Gideon. Din is equally silent all the way, even while entering the hangar to board Fett’s ship. At the ramp, five of them gather around. “Would you bring us to the nearest New Republic base? We can’t pay for our journey, but we can …” Din asks, but Fett waves him away. “Of course. We’ll head off to Tatooine if you wish to join us.” he offers. Cara bites her mouth inside to keep her mouth restrained, but Din notices the strain on her. “Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline.” Din answers, his tone measured.

He then turns to Bo-Katan and presents the Darksaber to her. “I meant it, I want nothing to do with it.” Bo-Katan shakes her head. “I accepted it once and lost Mandalore. I’m not making that mistake twice.” she says, but for a few seconds, she keeps her gaze on the sword. “You have to keep it safe. And when the time comes to retake Mandalore, I will ask for your participation.” she asserts. “I’ll answer the call, as the Way dictates.” Din says and slightly bows to Bo-Katan. He glances over to the other companions, and they board Fett’s ship.

Din and Cara sit on the chairs in the navigator room while Fennec is up in the cockpit with Fett. An hour into their journey is the point where Cara’s resolve to stay silent breaks. She knows Din won’t talk on his own, and she doesn’t expect him to pour out his thoughts. She just needs to make a few things clear. “At the base, you’ll apply for Gideon’s bounty for yourself, and I’ll apply for Pershing’s. There are a few shipyards nearby the base, we’ll pool our resources to get you a new ship.”

“Cara, it’s too much. I cannot accept it.”

“You captured the Moff. He is your bounty. As for the ship, I have a place to go back to, you don’t.”

“You could probably live off on the bounty.” Din says.

“Do you see me as the sitting down type?”

Din snorts and shakes his head. “No.”

“Then it is settled.” she ends the discussion and prepares to clean her rifle to clear her mind.

Din watches Cara cleaning her rifle, finding the process soothing. It helps him to focus and not drown in his thoughts. When they arrive at the base, he simply follows her half step behind. He doesn’t heed anything around him, he only needs to keep Cara in his field of vision for guidance. Even as the Captain of the base praises both for their efforts and great capture, his mind is elsewhere, picturing his last moments with Grogu. He is stirred from his daze when Cara slightly pushes him in a cabin with her on tow.

“Oh, man, I knew officer quarters are good, but this is a dream.” Cara exclaims. She drops her bag on the top bunk, carefully places her rifle at the foot of the bed, and she rummages around. The place is ample enough for two people. To Cara’s delight, the room is equipped with a fully functioning bathroom, water shower, a table for two, and a small kitchenette that is empty except a decent amount of kaf. Din is just watching her breeze around the room. She finally stops in front of him, shoving a small bag into his arms. “Here. You can change into something more comfortable and have a shower, while I’ll hunt for some dinner.” and with that, she’s out of the room.

Din takes note of the room for himself as he is left to his own devices. He inspects the contents of the small bag, Cara gave him. It has some change of clothing, underclothes, towel, and everything he might need. _When did she even procure these?_ Din proceeds to divest himself of his armour, and do as Cara told him to. He figures that he’ll sleep on the bottom bunk. In his current state, sleep should come to him even while standing, so it doesn’t matter. And he’ll compromise with whatever Cara wants.

After his shower, he sits on his bed, holding his helmet in his hands. “I made a promise to myself.” he says out loud. But waiting for Cara bare-faced isn’t as compelling as it should sound. He quickly dons the helmet as he hears a noise coming from the door. Cara walks in and drops the contents of her arms onto the table. “Soup is on the top, the stew is on the bottom. Dig in.” she tells him. Instead of grabbing one for herself, she reaches for her pack pulls out a similar bag like the one he received and heads for the bathroom. Before she closes the door, she announces gleefully. “Don’t wait for me, it’s been ages since I had a proper shower.”

After the past days, waiting for Cara to finish is just an opportunity to sort his thoughts out. Still, despite his best efforts it proves to be unsuccessful. Din sets the table and sits down on one of the chairs waiting. Cara emerges from a cloud of steam, she flings her bag on the end of her bunk, using it as a hanger. Then she deposits her armour and underarmour in one of the containers near the door. _She clearly knows her way around a standard New Republic quarters_. “Put yours in these.” she points to two similar containers. “This one will just circle air, the other has cleaning agents in it.” Din follows her instructions and expects her to be seated at the table.

Cara looks over to the untouched food. “Told you not to wait for me.”

“I wanted to.” Din simply answers. “Cara…” he steps closer. Cara looks up at him, challenging him not to say something they both will regret. Din smiles under his helmet and reaches for Cara’s hands. He is surprised that she’s not protesting in any way. Lifting her hands to the sides of his helmet Din addresses Cara’s concern. “I’m done hiding behind the helmet around you.” he says with conviction and releases her hands. Cara weights the helmet in her hand. “I’ve told you before, I don’t need to see your face.”

“I know, but I want you to.” he says with a finality, that gives Cara the permission to lift it off his face. She puts the helmet on the table behind the food containers. “You hungry?” she asks grinning.

Din exhales, relaxes and they start to demolish the food. Just sitting down, neither of them are in a hurry to run away, their only constraint is their empty stomach waiting to be filled. For the first time in around forty years, he shares a meal without his helmet, and he is happy about it. There is no fear, no shame filling his chest, no suspicion, no hidden agenda, they are just two people taking pleasure in a simple thing in life. Neither talks, they only share glances, making sure that the other is still there.

* * *

The night troubles Din, sleep eludes him despite his weariness. He spends the whole night tossing and turning. In the morning, he makes a kaf for both of them and prepares their breakfast. The morning is as quiet as their night. “I’ll have some business around the base.” Cara announces after she finishes putting on her armour. “I’ll bring back dinner. You can do whatever you want to. Nobody will stop you around the base.” she says, but she knows that Din will stay inside. He needs time, and she is trying to keep out of his hair for the time being.

* * *

Three days pass in similar fashion. Din talks only to thank Cara for the food and to bid good night. In turn, Cara stays silent as well, not inclined to disturb whatever thoughts Din is processing. On the fourth day, however, Cara speaks up. “Do you want me to leave? I can ask for another cabin.”

“What?” Din asks, his daze clears up, focusing on a single target.

“I get the impression you need more space. I don’t want to intrude.”

Din sighs and wrings his hands. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been in the best form in the past days.” Cara furrows her brows, taking in the broken man. She steps closer and crouches down in front of him. “It’s okay, no hard feelings. I imagine it’s difficult to deal with everything. I’ll just be next door, if you need anything and I’ll still bring food. I’m not leaving you behind.” she tries to reason with him, her gentle tone caress his heart without actually touching. “Please, don’t.” Din whispers and his hoarse voice is almost the final straw for Cara.

“What do you need?” she asks, her gaze unwavering from Din’s face.

Din looks up at her. “I don’t know.” he shakes his head, then tries to explain. “I think I’ll need this day to myself, but knowing you’re here helps me deal with the demons at night.”

The first part sounds like a mantra to Cara’s ears, the second one clenches a vice grip on her heart. She stands up. “Okay, so the usual as before. I’ll be in the cantina, until dinner.”

“Thank you.” Din says, and he slides back on his bunk leaning against the wall.

The day passes faster than the previous ones, at least from Din’s perspective. Cara’s offer to leave his close proximity rang a few alarms in his head. Try as he might, organising his thoughts on his creed and Grogu proved to be as futile as before. His stomach gurgles, and instead of ignoring it today, he decides to do something to calm it. He dons his armour, complete with the helmet and sets out to find Cara and the cantina.

Despite that this base is the largest in the next few systems, finding one’s way to the cantina is not difficult; usually that’s the most sought-after place in a base. He steps in and takes in its occupants. He quickly finds Cara.

“As I’ve told you the four times before. I’m not interested.” and Cara swats a persistent soldier away. Din shakes his head and sits down on Cara’s other side by the bar counter. She barely has the time to acknowledge his presence, fully prepared to hit the next annoying guy in the face before she hears a shout. “Hey!” the soldier exclaims. “She is mine!”

Din turns to the guy, stands up and walks up into his face. “One, she doesn’t belong to anyone. Two, she already said no to you. Three, if you don’t walk back to your friends now, they’ll have to haul your unconscious ass out of here.” The threat would’ve made most men think twice. Still, for some unfathomable reason, this one doesn’t even recognise the dire situation he is in. Yes, he taller and more built than Din, but he is obviously at a disadvantage against two seasoned warriors. The fact that one of them even likes to beat the shit out of people like him for credits is unfortunately unbeknownst to him. “I’m not afraid of your shiny armour, Mando! I bet I can break you in half like a twig.” he taunts puffing up his chest. Cara shifts in her seat, fist clenched, ready to pounce. Din sits back. “Look pal, last warning. But to be fair, it won’t be me who you’ll hand your ass to you.” Din says calmly pointing to Cara. “’Cause you can’t even fight your own battles?” the soldier tries to ridicule him. “No. Because if I do it, she’ll be pissed at me for at least a week, and that’s something I’d like to avoid.”

The soldier takes a step back, but only to harass Cara. “You bitch, ” but he cannot finish his tirade because Cara’s fist connects to his jaw and the guy sprawls out on the floor. She yells out for his friends. “Take him to the infirmary, just in case.” then she returns to her place and turns to Din, her ire gone with that well-placed punch. “Out for a stroll to stretch your legs?”

“Something like that. What we’ll have for dinner?”

Cara grins and reaches for the menu. “You chose for yourself; I already know what I’ll have.”

With a healthy amount of food, they return to their quarters. Dinner starts as quiet as usual, but Din has a question on his mind. “Cara?”

“Hmm?” she reacts munching on her last few bits.

“I still can’t wrap my head around everything. You don’t have to answer, I just thought that maybe it could help me.” he introduces his question carefully avoiding Cara’s eyes.

“Spill, Djarin.” Cara encourages and takes a big bite off her bread, curious about Din’s question.

“How had you dealt with the loss of your homeworld?”

Cara begins to play with her food. “I know what I went through is incomparable …” Din tries to excuse himself noting Cara’s discomfort, but she raises a hand to stop him. “Give me time to gather my thoughts.” Cara clears the table and cleans up the remnants of their dinner while Din silently watches her every move. She turns around, leans against the counter, and links her arms together, keeping her emotions under restraint. “How about we talk about this after we went to bed? The darkness will help.”

Din nods. “Whatever you need. I appreciate your help.”

* * *

Cara finally settles down on her back, blanket tucked under her arms. From below the only noise filtering through is Din’s breathing. Usually, Din would wrestle with the blanket for a few minutes, but now he is eerily quiet. She imagines Din’s concentration on his face to stay still for her benefit. In any other situation, she’d find in comical. Both of them could sleep through various types of noises, but this time it’s not about sleeping, rather the anticipation of something to happen. For Din, it’s a step closer to finding salvation, for her it’s a monster waiting in the abyss to crawl out and pull her back. Cara clenches her fists in her blanket, _Not this time fuckers_.

“We were already fighting a desperate war, we’re low on resources both material and personnel. The news about Alderaan not only blow a large hole in our defences, but it cracked the foundation of the wall as well.” Thinking back to those months always leaves her vulnerable as distant flashes of memories shine light on the gaping wound in her chest. The emotions of last conversations, a smile here, a kind gesture there are sometimes the only reminder she has from her family. She concentrates on a strong image she desperately clings to with her grandmother to draw strength. “I knew some who shot themselves right after. For others – like me – it took a longer route to lose ourselves.” Her voice sounds carefully controlled; rough edges give weight to her words. Din didn’t expected Cara to display those raw emotions that now stifle them in the emptiness.

Cara stops a little to pace herself and to brace for the inevitable resurfacing of ghosts. “I had a platoon under my command, most of us were from Alderaan. I saw the repercussions of the Destruction among them. I tried watching them with a keen eye, spotting some on the brink of their break and get them some help; to pull them out of the unit to allow them to heal. But for some, I was already too late. I lost a third of my men in the first month to their grief.” Cara sighs. The daily funerals, pretending to be strong hollowed her, to the point where another death was just a tally to be paid back. “I refused to see the same signs on myself. There was a doctor, she always berated me when I turned up in the infirmary. At first, it annoyed me, I thought she was crazy, there weren’t any problems with me. Therefore, I got better in treating my wounds, so I could avoid her.”

Out of the darkness, Din dares to whisper. “You don’t have to continue.”

His voice acts as an anchor, not allowing her to drift away. “It’s okay, it’s just been a long time since I’ve talked to someone about it.” Cara takes in a few deep breaths to centre herself. Din waits until Cara’s breathing normalises. “What was your method of coping?”

Cara huffs. “Methods. Had sex with everyone I could, just to feel something good for a few minutes. And drank a lot, to numb any of the pain I could.“ Cara chuckles in remembrance, but Din cannot decipher the real emotion behind it. It sounded cheeky and apathetic at the same time. “Once I got so drunk that I almost died. When I regained consciousness, my first words were, _Fuck you, Death!_ Ah, the face of the Doc was a picture,” Cara laughs out in earnest, but then her tone turns serious “she talked my ears off for excessive drinking. I had enough of her speech after a few minutes and hobbled out to my quarters. She was pissed beyond measure. And I was angry at her because she couldn’t possibly understand what I was going through. I assuaged any speck of guilt I could have by telling myself I was never drunk on the job.”

Cara stops again to clear her throat from the imaginary burning of alcohol. “And of course, I did what most of us. Marched headfirst into the worst fights during battles. Desperate to bring as many Imps with me as I possibly could. All the while trying to keep that attitude from my platoon. I didn’t want them to follow me. I wanted them to live.” The anger Cara feels begins to bubble up, but she caps it. _There is nothing you can do to change the past._

“You could not possibly keep it up like that until the end of the wars. What made you stop?” Din asks. The anonymity of the darkness gives courage to both of them.

“An explosion.” Cara answers nonchalantly. “We went to liberate a refugee camp, but they were long dead piled up in a cellar. I was careless. Furious. Didn’t notice the laser. Then nothing. I couldn’t move. My stupid lieutenant and a couple of idiots came back for me, dragged my ass back. The Doc was not happy to see me like that. I thought that she’d talk to me endlessly about what happened and what I did in the prior months and that I wouldn’t be able to escape it.” Cara shifts, the small scar on her lower back flares up, but she knows it’s only a phantom. She tries to distract herself by tracing the pattern on her blanket and by continuing with her story.

“She said that my body could heal on its own, so no tech for me. At first, I was going crazy, all I could do is lay in bed, while my spine was healing. The Doc ignored me on purpose. I tried to focus on everything around me to appease my boredom. That’s when I noticed it. People came to visit her, they sat down and talked. Some of them were from my platoon, whom I picked out and sent them to the Doc for help. Their entire posture changed even after a short session; you could see how the dark clouds left their eyes.” Cara loses herself for a minute over a memory, some words she can still hear as a whisper that calms her heart rate.

“On day 9, I asked the Doc, what they’re talking about. And she sat down with me. As it turned out, her husband and two children were on Alderaan to stay safe while she was tending to us systems away. I broke there. It was 7 months after Alderaan’s destruction, and that was the first time I cried. For the rest of my recovery, we talked about our memories of our pasts. Later I realised she held me back in the infirmary to see if she could help my soul. I learned to …” Cara stops deeply in thought formulating proper words to describe her feelings “… not to live, but how to outlive. From that point, I fought ever harder. I wanted to die from the day of the Destruction, and to this day, I’m not afraid of dying. I just want it to have a meaning to me; otherwise, they win.”

Then Cara summarises in an effort to rein in her despair. “I know I’m not whole, but I’ve come to accept that.” She waits letting the words sink into Din. If there is one thing, she wants him to remember from all, is that realization. ”It shapes who I am, and I have to build around it. I drink considerably less than before and grown out of my bed-hopping activities. Though I still might be prone to violence every once in a while.” Cara alleviates her admission, and Din can picture the grin she sports, giving way to a chuckle.

“Every once in a while?” he asks back and Cara shares his mirth, then she sobers up. “The Doc might be proud of how far I’d come.” Long silence falls between them, both milling through their emotions. The last time Cara was this honest about her past, was with the Doc. Having Din in her life, someone whom she can trust fully, who understands what loss is allows her to share her insecurities. “I have good days and bad. Being on Nevarro gave me a purpose that is not driven by anger, and I am more at peace with myself.”

Din hangs on Cara’s every word, letting her to conclude. “To answer your question, I needed to realise that I need help, needed to allow them to help me, needed time to process everything. It’s not a universal solution. It’s not easy. You have to fight with yourself at every step.” Her clipped sentences reveal the pain behind them. “For some, having someone around who cares for them and doesn’t give up on them can be lifesaving. For others, the help they get is either too late, or they see no other way out to escape their suffering. I don’t blame them, but it is kriffing difficult to watch someone you care about wither away. I was lucky. If it weren’t for that explosion, for the Doc, I would’ve found a way to end my miseries in a matter of weeks.” Cara finishes, tears welling up in her eyes.

Din hums. “I don’t know if it matters, but I’m glad that you’re still here.” _I don’t know what I’d do without you_. Cara lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. Her throat clamps up, making it difficult to answer. “It does matter a lot.” she whispers. “Thank you for sharing it with me. It humbles me.” Din tries to express his gratitude. “You’re my friend, and I trust you with my life.” Cara admits.

Tears fill Din’s eyes. He never thought that kind words could ever have such an effect on him. He allows them to trickle down on his cheeks. Cara’s reluctance to leave have a deeper meaning now. She might want to return to Nevarro, but she is staying for him. Come morning he’ll take up on her silent offer to talk.

* * *

They spend the next two days mostly cooped up in their quarters talking, reminiscing about happier times, and mourning over lost souls. Divulging their pasts left Din’s head dizzy at times. He caught himself staring at her for longer than appropriate few times a day. During the night, he wonders what would it be like to wake up every day with the prospect of spending his time with Cara. Had he been more forward during their previous encounters, would they be already sharing a life? Or have they needed their own experiences to be able to open up to each other as they are now? For him to learn what it meant to be a father, and for her, to accept that she can live again. It also helped him realign himself, catching a grip on his life to find his way back. Remembering about Grogu still hurts, but it’s only been 8 days since the kid’s departure. He’ll need a lot more time, he knows that. But he is ready to take the next step. Determined in his decision, he sets himself to sleep. 

Tossing and turning, swimming in sweat, Din wakes up terrified. He calls out for Cara, but his voice echoes around the empty room. Din jumps from his bed franticly reaching up to Cara’s bunk, needing to check on her, but he only finds a crumpled blanket and a pillow. He bolts to the compartment for his armour to suit up and to find her. As he punches his code in, the bathroom door opens, and Cara appears the overhead light haloing over her form. “Cara!” he exclaims again. He reaches her in few strides and without thinking, he grasps Cara’s cheeks with shaking hands and kisses her.

Cara, still half asleep is stunned by his action, and her body responds to his without consulting with her mind. She opens her mouth to feel more, and her hands slide over Din’s chest. Din’s own body similarly short-circuits and follows Cara’s direction with his mouth. He moans at the barrage of new sensations, the tingling in his lips as they connect, the way their tongues caress each other and her taste. However, the sound is enough to wake him from his stupor and he steps back suddenly pulling his hands back to sides. “Kriff! I’m sorry Cara. I … ” and he turns around intent on reaching for his clothes again.

The sudden departure leaves Cara confused for a few seconds. She then realises that Din is wrangling his clothes from the compartments. “Din? What are you doing?” she asks bewildered.

“I’m heading out. I’ll be back by the morning and ask for another room.”

“Why?”

Din fumbles with his clothes, his hands still unsteady. “Because of what I did. Not asking for your permission is unforgivable. I broke your trust.” he blurts out in the end.

Cara crouches down beside Din, her hand seeking his to stop his motions noticing its tremble. “What did you think before you kissed me?” she asks. “That you’re alive.” Din sighs. “Yeah, you’re a real scum for worrying for me.” she slaps her hand on Din’s thigh. “Come, take a seat. I’ll make some tea. You need to calm down.”

“But…” Din tries to object, but Cara is already heating up water, her back towards him. “Move before I make you to.” she advises. He begrudgingly shuts the compartment and sits down on a chair, shoulders pulled back, hands fiddling with each other waiting for his sentencing while Cara prepares the tea.

“What happened in your nightmare?” Cara asks while pouring out the beverage, fruity aroma filling the room. Din looks up at her in disbelief. _How?_ His face must have the question written all over it because Cara explains it casually. ”I looked into a mirror once during the aftermath. It stays with you for a while.”

Din sighs nursing his tea. “Gideon. He … ” he trails off trying to control his voice. “Every time I got to him, he captured you too. And every single time I tried something, I had to watch you die gruesomely, or hold you while you take your last breath.”

Cara purses her lips and takes a sip from her tea. She leans back in her seat. “Remember what I told you? I knew the possible consequences, but you and the kid mean a lot to me. Dying would’ve been acceptable price.” she explains calmly.

“Not to me.” Din shakes his head and turns a stern gaze towards her. “Please, never give your life up for me.” She returns his glare with similar fierceness. “That’s my choice to make, Din Djarin, not yours.”

Din looks away afterwards. Cara takes it as a cue for them to stop. She walks to their bunk bed, takes her blanket and pillow, throws it on Din’s bed and begins to settle in. “Cara?”

“Just get in. Neither of us is going to get some sleep otherwise.” she mumbles while fighting with her blanket. Din turns off the lights, saunters over and for a split second, he entertains the idea of spooning Cara, her back inviting him, even under a blanket. Still disgusted with his behaviour, he opts to sleep with his back to her. He has to mould his back to hers for him not to fall out of the bed. Sharing a bed with someone is not something he has much experience with. Her proximity is easing into his awareness, knowing she is right beside him, and unable to leave without waking him is comforting in the light of his nightmare. But at the same time, it reminds him that he is chaining Cara to himself. Until he gets better, she’ll stay with him instead of living her life on Nevarro. Cara kicks his calf. “I can feel you thinking. You have to close your eyes, relax your muscles and stop thinking to get some sleep.” Cara frets. Din smiles at her testiness, closes his eyes, and once again he lets her presence wash over him, whiff away his anxiety and makes it his guide to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, making comments and leaving kudos! 
> 
> Take care of yourselves and others.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
